


Handsome Devil

by Dearly_Divided



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Deal with a Devil, Deception, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, John's the Devil, LITERALLY, Naive Rook, Possessive John, Someone please hug Rook?, Supernatural Elements, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearly_Divided/pseuds/Dearly_Divided
Summary: 'It’s gotta be on a full moon, he won’t show up otherwise. You take a box, put in some pictures of you, dirt from a graveyard and a bone from a black cat, or that’s what my grandma always used to say. Bury it in the middle of the crossroads at midnight, and if you’re lucky, he’ll appear, and you can make your deal.'Mind you, Kim had only been talking in a hypothetical sense. Ghost stories whispered between friends, no more tangible than whispering Bloody Mary three times in a mirror.But the ghost story was all Rook had, her final option.





	Handsome Devil

Rook shivered in the cool night air, the thin fabric of her dress not quite enough to keep the breeze at bay. It was late August and the while the days were still warm once the sun dropped behind the hills the temperature dropped quickly.

In all fairness, whether or not she should have brought something warmer to wear while she went to summon the Devil was hardly the most pressing matter on her mind.

No, she’d been too focused on remembering exactly what Kim had told her years ago when they were still kids.

_It’s gotta be on a full moon, he won’t show up otherwise. You take a box, put in some pictures of you, dirt from a graveyard and a bone from a black cat, or that’s what my grandma always used to say. Bury it in the middle of the crossroads at midnight, and if you’re lucky, he’ll appear, and you can make your deal._

Mind you, Kim had only been talking in a hypothetical sense. Ghost stories whispered between friends, no more tangible than whispering Bloody Mary three times in a mirror. 

But the ghost story was all Rook had, her final option. 

She’d just finished packing down the earth when she checked her watch - one minute passed the hour. Hopefully not too late, she didn’t have the time to wait for the next full moon. This was her last chance, her _only_ chance. 

Shakily, Rook made her way to her feet, brushing the dirt from her dress as she glanced around expectantly. 

Nothing but the soft sound of crickets in the night and an owl hooting somewhere in the distance. 

It felt wrong to pray to God for the Devil to appear, but as she bit her bottom lip her eyes her eyes fluttered shut. “ _Please_ … I’ll do anything,” she whispered, her voice carrying softly with the breeze.

A rich, warm laugh cut through the brisk night, seizing Rook’s heart, “Oh my dear, I do so _love_ hearing humans beg.” 

Her eyes snapped open to find a man dressed impeccably in a dark suit standing before her. He was handsome – short dark hair with a neatly trimmed beard to match. His face was somehow both soft and striking, looking as if Michelangelo himself had sculpted it from clay and given him life. But it was his eyes, soft baby blues glimmering with delight that seemed to pierce right through her that really took her breath away. 

Rook wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, maybe not a red man with horns, a tail and a pitchfork, but certainly not… this. He was perhaps the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

“You, you’re… him,” she breathed, not quite a question, for who else would appear out of thin air in the middle of the night? 

The Devil smirked. “In the flesh.”

He took a step towards her and Rook stiffened, clenching her fists and fighting with every fibre of her being not to back away as he started to circle her like a shark in the water.

“Now, tell me my dear. What’s a sweet, pretty young thing like you doing summoning the Devil on a night like this?”

Rook couldn’t help but shiver and flinch as he came to a stop in front of her, closer than before. Far from being offended, his smirk widened as his eyes flickered across her face, drinking in every delightful ounce of her fear.

“What is it you want, hm? Talent? Fame? A young, strapping husband? Or something else, perhaps? Money? You humans are such a greedy lot.” He laughed again, the sound full bodied and rich and smoother than silk, Rook had never heard anything like it. 

Rook shook her head, “M-my sister Sarah, she’s only six but she’s dying. The Doc says there’s nothing to be done.”

“And you want me to save her?” he crooned. “Take away the cancer that’s killing her?”

Rook licked her lips and nodded. “Yes.”

His teeth glinted in the moonlight as he reached out to brush a loose curl that had fallen across her face. She tensed at the touch, but instead of the icy cold she was expecting, his hands were warm, soft even. “There’s always a price, you know that don’t you, Rook.”

She nodded, and with more bravery than she felt, she met the Devil’s piercing stare with her chin up, “I know, but I want your word on something first.”

To say that the Devil snorted seemed almost undignified, but there was no other way to describe the irreverent sound that came from the back of his throat. Rook thought he might be angry with her, but his corners of his lips twitched into a smirk and if she had to name the emotion dancing in his eyes, she would have called it amusement. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“And what would that be, _darling_?” he asked in that soft, dangerous lilt.

He was playing with her like a cat would a mouse. She knew as well as he did that she had no power here. She’d called, he’d answered – that was the extent of it.

She took a deep, steadying breath. “I want you to save my sister, and I want her to _live_. I don’t want her cured just so she can be hit by a car tomorrow.” Her green eyes narrowed and her voice hardened. “I don’t care if her time is up, if I make this deal with you, I want your word that she lives a long, _happy_ life.” 

He could call her bluff in an instant. He didn’t need her soul, her life or anything she could offer him, but Rook damn well needed her little sister to live, even if it was just for another week, even for a single extra _day_.

Something shifted in his expression, a slight quirking of his brow, “You think I’d try and cheat you?” It wasn’t a threat, but there was a distinct edge to his words, and Rook recognised it well enough to know she had to tread very, very carefully. He was amused now, but Rook certainly didn’t want to find out what might happen if or when that changed.

There was a feeling of uneasiness in her stomach that had been growing since she buried that box, growing louder and less easy to ignore by the passing second. It begged her to turn around and run home, find Sarah and hold her close and pretend like this was nothing but a bad dream. Rook should have listened to it, but she’d come this far.

“I think you’re the Devil and that makes you capable of just about anything.” It was as diplomatic an answer as she could give while still being honest - lying to the Devil himself seemed a special kind of stupid, even for Rook. 

With her shoulders set Rook held her ground, waiting for the worst. Instead, there a flash of something across his face (surprise maybe?) gone too quick for her to name and he chuckled, the sound more genuine than anything else he’d given her their entire interaction. “Oh, you _are_ fun,” he said.

Rook released her breath she’d been holding, trying not to sag in relief. “Is that a yes?”

He inclined his head, spreading his arms wide in a way that reminded her strangely of the preacher she used to know back home. “Why not? I can be generous, for the right price, of course.”

He might have looked like a man, but when he smiled like that there was something so… _inhuman_ about it, though Rook couldn’t put her finger on what exactly that was. All she knew was that very sight of that charming, beautiful smile set the tiny hairs on the back of her neck on end and something primal deep inside of her urged her to _run_.

Rook gulped. “My life for hers, right? My soul?” That was how these things usually went, or at least that’s what Kim had told her, and Kim had gotten her this far.

For a moment he was silent as he took a small step back and appraised her. Under his gaze, Rook felt like every flaw she had, every mistake she’d ever made, every single sin she’d ever committed was on display. There was no hiding as he drank in every dirty little secret, leaving her bare, naked beneath his prying eyes. It felt like he was staring into her soul and despite knowing full well she was still wearing clothes, Rook had to fight the instinct to cover herself up and protect her modesty.

The moment stretched an eternity until finally he sighed, a softer but no less unsettling grin stretching across his face. “No, my dear. Nothing so mundane.”

She frowned and chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous tic she’d picked up as kid and hadn’t quite managed to kick. “Then what _do_ you want?”

He reached for her again, this time to cup her cheek. Despite her best efforts, Rook trembled as his thumb brushed against her skin in a mockery of tender affection. “Tell me, my dear, is there anything you wouldn’t give for your sister’s _long_ , _happy_ life?” he murmured, his voice so soft and gentle yet each word delivered like a knife to her heart.

Rook was a good person. She went to church, she looked after her parents and her little sister, she gave to charity and tried her hardest to be kind, even when the other person didn’t always deserve it. She wanted to tell him yes, that she had a moral compass and she wouldn’t do anything bad to anyone who didn’t deserve it. 

But then she thought about Sarah, that perfect, pure little angel who lived and breathed happiness even on her deathbed, and Rook shook her head, her eyes fluttering closed in defeat.

“No,” she breathed. 

If she was willing to sell her soul to the Devil, how much further could she fall?

Delight once again lit up his handsome face, and Rook couldn’t help but feel like she’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. 

“Perfect,” he purred, one long tattooed finger flicking up to collect the single stray tear that spilled down her cheek. “Five years.”

Her eyes flashed open as her heart skipped a beat. “Five years for what?”

He shrugged,“I told you I can be generous. I’ll give you five years to spend with your darling little Sarah.”

Dread crept through her veins like ice. “And then?”

His eyes, such a soft, pretty blue, flashed red, stealing Rook’s breath away as she glimpsed for the first time the true creature beneath the human façade. “And then, my dear, darling Rook, I come to collect my payment.”

“Which is?” she asked, dreading the answer.

“Now where’s the fun in telling?” he replied with a wink. “Do we have a deal, my dear?”

Rook could only imagine the horrifying things that he’d ask of her when he came to collect on their debt. He might not have asked for her soul, but this was somehow worse, not knowing what was coming, not knowing how to prepare as the clock ticked down. No doubt that was half of his fun, knowing that he’d be tormenting her without having to lift a finger. 

And yet, despite knowing all of that, Rook still straightened her shoulders, met his gaze and stuck her hand out, “We have a deal.” 

He glanced down at her hand and scoffed, “No, darling. That’s not how we seal these kinds of contracts.”

Rook frowned, internally cursing her own stupidity, “Right, no, I suppose not. Is there a contra-”

Before she had a chance to finish her sentence, his other hand reached up to capture her other cheek, and his lips were suddenly on hers.

His kiss was neither kind nor gentle nor chaste, but Rook didn’t dare pull away. He tasted like smoke and spiced wine and something strangely sweet and it made Rook dizzy and weak all in one. She’d been kissed before, sure, but never like this. A burning heat spread from her lips down through her body, setting every nerve ending alight in the most delightful way, and Rook was so lost in it she almost didn’t notice how he pressed his body, so warm to the touch, firmly against her own. His tongue brushed teasingly against hers, and almost without thinking, Rook found herself kissing back, ignoring the tiny voice in her head that told her it was so, so _wrong_.

He broke away with a smug little smirk, leaving Rook dazed, breathless and struggling to think straight. “I’ll see you soon, my dear,” he said, and with a wave of his fingers he disappeared into the night, and Rook was once again alone at the crossroads.

 ***

 

He kept his word.

He didn’t cure Sarah’s cancer, he made it so that the illness had never existed in the first place. No one remembered a thing, as far as her family and their friends knew her sister was a normal, happy, healthy six year old and always had been.

She almost wished he’d taken her memories as well. Not because it didn’t make Rook’s heart swell with happiness to see her running around their backyard and clambering up trees no matter how many times their mother told her to stop because it wasn’t ‘ladylike behaviour’, but because she knew that it had come at a price and she had to live with that every day.

What could possibly be worse than damning herself to hell for eternity?

Five years had felt like such a long time.

It wasn’t. 

The days slipped by like grains of sand in an hourglass. Suddenly one year had passed, and then two. Her sister flourished, she never seemed to get sick anymore, not even a sniffle of a cold. Her mother said she was blessed; the truth was far less altruistic.

The Devil might have been generous, but he was never kind. Foolishly, Rook had thought that those years were hers and hers alone.

She was wrong.

The first time he’d come to visit, Rook had been helping her mother cook dinner when he’d appeared in the middle of their living room out of thin air. Rook didn’t scream, she wasn’t the type, but the blood had drained from her face like she’d seen a ghost and the ceramic bowl she’d been holding had slipped from her numb fingers, smashing against the floor.

He’d smirked at that, even as her mother had come around to chastise her for being so clumsy, as if the literal Devil hadn’t appeared out of thin air not two feet from where she stood.

He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d come, leaving Rook to wonder whether he’d actually been there at all or whether she’d merely imagined it. But he came to visit her again, this time while she’d been watching Sarah play in the park with her friends. He’d sat down on the park bench beside her, grinning as Rook resolutely kept her eyes on her sister.

“Do you know how many days you have left until you’re mine, my dear?” he asked.

Rook’s fists had clenched the fabric of her skirt above her knees. “Don’t. _Please_.”

He chuckled softly, and Rook remembered what he’d said to her the night she’d made that wretched deal, the very first words he’d ever spoken to her. _I do so love hearing humans beg._  

He leaned in close, pulling the curls that obscured her face from him back and tucking them behind her ear, his long fingers brushing against the curve of her neck in such a way that Rook knew it wasn’t accidental. His lips pressed a feather light kiss right above the pulse point on her throat, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin there, laughing softly when she squeaked in surprise.  “One thousand, seven hundred and fifty-eight,” he whispered.

Each day that passed seemed shorter than the one before it. 

_One thousand, five hundred and sixteen._

_One thousand, two hundred and twenty-seven._

Rook kept tally. It was hard not to when he delighted in reminding her so often that her time was running out.

_Nine hundred and twelve. We’re halfway there, my dear. Are you as excited as I am?_

_Seven hundred and forty-two._

_Five hundred and eleven._

Sometimes he wouldn’t show up for a few weeks and Rook would start to breathe easily, but the very moment she’d become complacent, there he’d be, watching her with that self-indulgent smirk she’d grown to hate so very much.

As fateful day drew closer the amount of time the Devil spent shadowing her steps increased. He’d follow her from room to room as she went about her day, doing her best to ignore him as he whispered softly in her ear, beautiful, awful things.

_Four hundred and fifty-nine._

_Three hundred and sixty-five days. One year, darling. We’re so close I can almost_ taste _it._

Sometimes he didn’t say anything, content just to unnerve her with his presence alone. He didn’t have to speak for her to feel the malevolence hidden behind that charming grin that rolled off him in waves, tainting her remaining days with Sarah. His touches, a hand against her cheek, fingers brushing against her lower back, the ghosting of his lips against her skin, became all too familiar and yet no less unsettling.

Rook began to feel his eyes on her even when she couldn’t see him, and more than once she’d awoken in her bed with a start, unable to shake the feeling that he’d been lying there beside her.

Twelve months had become nine, then six, then three, then one. It was pointless to fight against time, but Rook fought with herself to squeeze the most out of every last second she had with her family and friends.

_Twenty-six._

_Seventeen._

Sarah, eleven years old now and so incredibly bright, didn’t pass comment when she found Rook sobbing in her bed, clutching an old blanket of hers she’d had as a baby. She merely told her to shove over, clambering into the bed to cuddle up beside her.

_Ten._

_One week_. _Tell me, my dear, will you kiss your family farewell before you come to me?_  

Those last seven days slipped away like smoke through her fingers.

He came to her on that last night with her family. Her parents were in the kitchen, her mother laughing at something her father had said while they prepared dinner. Sunday roast, one of her favourites. Sarah was off in her own world, humming quietly along with the music her mother had chosen, her head buried in a book, though she leaned against her older sister, who in turn was absentmindedly carding her hand through Sarah’s hair. 

He appeared as he always did, without any bells or whistles, simply there where he hadn’t been before. 

She expected him to be smug, but as he stared at her, curled up around her sister protectively, his handsome face was strangely devoid of the mockery he usually wore whenever she showed familial love and affection. Rather, the Devil almost looked _soft_. He took her chin gently in his fingers, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “Come to the crossroads at midnight, I’ll be waiting.” Those breathtaking blue eyes swept across her face once more, and then he was gone.

She recognised it for the kindness that it was.

The night passed her by too quickly. Her father was the first to leave, reminding them all that he had work early the next morning. He kissed her on the forehead as she threw her arms around him. _Bye, dad_. 

Her mother made Sarah go to bed next. She was only eleven after all, and young ladies had a bedtime for a _reason_. Rook pulled her little sister into a crushing hug until Sarah was literally pushing to get away. “Sleep tight, little one,” she murmured, finally releasing her.

Sarah regarded her with an odd expression but didn’t say anything else as she too slipped from the room, leaving Rook alone with their mother.

“Are you okay, sweetheart? You’ve seemed a little, well, _off_ this week,” her mother asked, brushing her curls away from her face and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Rook forced a smile on her face, “Of course. Probably just a bit tired.”

Her mother sighed good-naturedly, “Well then go to bed, honey. You look like you need it.”

“Soon,” she said. “Not just yet.”

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while, but eventually her mother left too, an affectionate if not slightly concerned, ‘don’t stay up too late,’ thrown over her shoulder.

She checked the clock on the wall, 11pm. An hour. She still had a little time. Quietly, Rook snuck into Sarah’s room, shutting the door softly behind her. Sarah was fast asleep, and Rook was glad for it. She looked so peaceful, snuggled up under the covers, so innocent. Rook settled down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her.

“I don’t regret it, not for a moment,” she whispered. “I don’t know what he wants from me or what he’s gonna make me do, and that terrifies me.” She took a deep breath, shakily wiping at the tears that welled in her eyes. “He saved you and whatever the cost, it’ll be worth it. You’ll live, Sarah, live to be old and happy… God I hope you won’t hate me for this.”

The seconds trickled by and far too soon, it was time to leave. She eased herself to her feet, leaning down to press a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “I love you.”

She walked away, willing herself not to look back.

It was late August, and the while the days were still warm once the sun dropped behind the hills the temperature dropped quickly. This time, Rook wrapped herself in a coat before she slipped from the house, shutting the door behind her as quietly as she could. 

The walk to the crossroads felt quicker than usual, and before she knew it, she was back where this all began.

Rook didn’t have to summon him this time, true to his word he was waiting for her.

“Hello, darling,” he purred, that same wicked, gleeful smirk plastered across his face that he often wore in her presence. 

He went to make a move towards her, but Rook threw a hand up to stop him. “Wait.”

Surprisingly, he stilled, his brow cocking in curiosity. With a wave of his own hand he gestured for her to say her piece.

Rook met his gaze head on. “Tell me the price. I’ve never asked, not once in five years. I deserve to know.” 

His smirk widened, looking very much like a shark smelling blood in the water. “You haven’t pieced it together by now?” 

Her cheeks tinged with pink, but she shook her head. “Just tell me.”

He chuckled, sauntering over to her. “You, darling. You’re my price.”

She frowned, shaking her head as the familiar feeling of dread began to creep through her veins. “B-but you said you didn’t want my soul, you said-“

Her protests were swallowed as he pulled her against him, his lips attacking hers with the fervour of a man dying man offered salvation. His kiss consumed her, ignited her, making it difficult to think, much less object, and it seemed impossible, but he tasted so good, intoxicating and sweet.

He broke the kiss with a quiet chuckle, the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her waist coming to caress her cheek. “Did I? My apologies, dearest. I should have elaborated. I don’t want _just_ your soul. Do you think I’m this generous for every poor sap who wants to make a deal? No, you’re special, my dear, made for me. I want all of you - your mind, your body, your devotion, your _love_. You’ll give me everything, in time. And don’t fret, Rook, I have nothing _but_ time.”

Rook’s world came crashing down around her as his words and the implication behind them sunk in. Every possessive touch she’d brushed off, every lingering glance, every soft, sinful word he’d spoken… how had she not seen this coming?

He watched the turmoil play across her face with cheerful fascination, and when tears began to spill from her eyes, he wiped them away with a soothing hum. “Remember, darling, you were the one who said _yes_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it, leave some kudos and/or comments. Also, come say hi on tumblr - Seedlingsinner


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